


The Interloper

by PhantomWriter



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Supernatural
Genre: CAOS Post-Season 3, F/M, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, SPN Post-Season 15
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22893952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: The new student who joined Baxter High on its new term seemed a little odd though normal all things considered.At least, that was what Sabrina believed Jack Kline Winchester to be.
Relationships: Ambrose Spellman & Sabrina Spellman, Harvey Kinkle/Rosalind "Roz" Walker, Jack Kline & Sabrina Spellman, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester, Robin Goodfellow (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Theo Putnam, Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 23
Kudos: 84





	1. Jack

The peach skirt and the powder blue sleeved shirt weren't so bad, Sabrina thought approvingly as she studied her reflection.

She has been more partial to soft and muted colors recently, she realized. Roz was helpful in picking out what would better suit Sabrina's complexion. Sabrina applied a pink lipstick, touched herself up with some face powder and was done with a twirl.

Downstairs, Ambrose and her Aunties were already present, with Salem by the countertop. After the round of 'good morning's, she was finally digging on some bacon and toast. Together with the breakfast was Ambrose's side of judging look. After two months, Sabrina became accustomed to it—pretty much to any of her cousin's customary reactions for most of her crucial life decisions.

Sabrina smiled at him beguilingly. Ambrose wasn't about to ruin for her the first day of the new term in Baxter High.

"Is there a problem with you two?" Hilda asked concernedly.

"No," they both answered simultaneously.

Hilda stared between the two of them for a second longer. "Ookay. If you say so."

Zelda merely huffed behind the newspapers. They could practically hear the roll of her eyes.

Sabrina bid them a quick goodbye, scratching Salem's ears on her way out. She left with a little heavier heart, reminded again of the secret she was keeping from her family.

It hadn't weighed much on her initially, until somehow Ambrose figured it all out based on his instincts alone and continued to distress himself, and eventually her, over it. He talked of time paradoxes that the more Sabrina listened to him fret and sulk, the more she realized the gravity of her recklessness and secrecy.

Fine, she could tell her aunts, and what then? What would they even do with the other her? Heavens, what would Lucifer and Lilith do to the other her?

Sabrina did entertain the notion that at least Lilith would find out sooner than later, though if she already did, the lack of any response from her could only mean Lilith preferred the other Sabrina who was probably more agreeable with the affairs in Hell. Same case if it would be Lucifer who would discover the truth; he was too narcissistic to care, and technically speaking it was still his daughter Sabrina with him.

Okay, so maybe Sabrina was hopeful it would be smooth sailing from then on because nothing unnatural—what was considered as unnatural for her and the other half of her kind anyway—has happened so far. She gotta say the threshold for that category was pretty damn high and wide.

Quietly, Sabrina slipped in on her seat, shaking the thoughts of time loops and time paradoxes away as her friends filed in. They easily fell into a conversation of how they spent the last few weeks of the school break after spending most of it at the Kinkle's Garage. Baxter High and her friends were supposed to remind her that she was also a human teenager behind all that witchcraft.

It was no excuse for her impulsiveness, but, oh, well, what was done was already done.

Ms. Wardwell strolled in with lighter steps, and Sabrina was glad that the selective amnesia at least helped her favorite teacher as well. There were fewer lines around Ms. Wardwell's face, and she seemed to be smiling more recently. Must be because of the guy Sabrina saw her hanging around with a couple of times over the course of summer. She was keeping her hair down these days, not the same way Lilith would wear it but rather styled with soft curls and the ends that made her look younger and dainty.

While Sabrina's attention was on Ms. Wardwell, the others were quick to notice the other person that entered the classroom after her.

The guy was tall and looked a little older than them, Sabrina observed, though she couldn't be sure with his exact age with that appearance of his like a small kid seemingly lost.

"Everyone," Ms. Wardwell called. "Before we officially start the term, there's an introduction to be made by a new student of ours." She turned to the boy, smiling encouragingly. "Go on, lad. Do introduce yourself to us."

"Thank you, Miss," he said. He smiled at the rest brightly and gave a slight, if not a bit stilted, wave in greeting. "Hello. I'm Jack."

The class waited for the last name that never followed. An awkward silence ensued.

"What is your surname, Jack?" Ms. Wardwell asked gently. "So that we may address you properly."

"Oh," Jack said as if he was only getting it now. There were some giggling and snickering. "It's Kline." He frowned to himself before adding, "Winchester."

Ms. Wardwell blinked. "Jack Kline-Winchester?"

"Jack Winchester is fine," Jack told them.

"Of course, Mr. Winchester," Ms. Wardwell said. She pointed at the seat at Sabrina's left. "You may take the empty seat beside Ms. Spellman so we may begin. Welcome to Baxter High, Mr. Winchester."

Jack moved towards the spot and sat. He noticed Sabrina staring at him, and he smiled guilelessly at her.

* * *

"He's a little weird, isn't he?" Sabrina murmured during lunch break, catching Jack at a distance ambling around with a tray at hand. He was really like a lost kid as he looked around his surroundings.

"The new kid?" Harvey asked, eyes turning to the direction Sabrina was looking at. "They said he's a transfer. Maybe he's still adjusting."

"Yeah. We should cut him a break. He's still trying to fit in," Theo put in.

"I didn't mean to say that negatively," Sabrina amended. "It's just an observation, and definitely not the kind of 'weird' associated with Greendale in general."

"I think Sabrina just means that Jack looks like he's a little out of it most of the time," Roz helpfully said. "Poor guy. He must have left a lot of things behind his old school. At least he's trying his best to appear optimistic and nice to everyone."

Jack searched for a vacant table when Billy and his gang noticed him. Billy whispered conspiratorially with his friends, surreptitiously glancing at Jack and sniggering with his fellow jocks.

"Okay, that's it. I'm not comfortable seeing this go down," Theo said, standing and walking briskly to where Jack stood when Billy began to move towards him as well.

Theo had beaten Billy to it, pulling a grateful Jack with him to their table. Theo shot Billy a scowl in warning in which Billy regretfully accepted, raising his palms in surrender as he backed off.

"Sit with me and my friends, Jack." Theo maneuvered Jack down to the space beside him. "In case you don't know us yet, I'm Theo Putnam."

"Harvey Kinkle."

"Rosalind Walker. Roz for short."

"Sabrina. I don't mind you calling me that instead of Spellman."

"In that case then you can call me Jack." He turned to Theo. "Thank you for the invitation, Theo. It's an honor to know you and your friends."

Theo snorted. "Dude, that's so formal, but you're welcome." He nodded behind Jack where Billy and his friends were. "Word of advice: stay away from that group. They're bullies especially to new kids."

"Why would they bully people they barely know?" Jack asked confusedly.

"Good question. I don't know either how a bully's mind works."

"Theo was a victim of theirs before," Sabrina supplied. "They're okay now with him, but it doesn't mean we forget about it."

Jack frowned, deep in thought. "I think they might be the people my aunt and uncle warned me about. They said that schools have these bullies that I should look out for them."

"They're not wrong," Harvey muttered.

"Do you live with your aunt and uncle, Jack?" Roz inquired, steering them to a more pleasant subject. "Where did you come from, by the way, if you don't mind us asking?"

"I live with my aunt and uncle at the moment, yes," Jack answered. "We came from Lebanon."

"Like the country Lebanon?"

"Kansas," he said after that puzzling pause of his. "We have a… farm there."

"Farmboy too, huh," Theo said with a grin. "Me too."

"So you transferred from a school in Kansas?" Sabrina asked.

Jack shook his head. "I was homeschooled by my father, two uncles, and my aunt. My father and my other uncle are left in Kansas."

Harvey was intrigued. "Your dad is alright with you being this far from home?"

"He wasn't at first," Jack admitted, staring down on his food. "But he understands the importance of my formal education. And it's not that I'm alone here in Greendale."

Sabrina hummed in agreement. She remembered her Aunt Zelda disagreeing with how she kept setting aside time to attend at Baxter instead of going fulltime in the Academy, but looking at the state of the Academy now and what had happened during her stay, her aunt probably thought it was fortunate that she let Sabrina be.

"Where did you move in exactly?"

"We live near the woods. I'm unfamiliar with the landmarks yet, but I believe we're close to the local mortuary."

"Oh, that's where I live, actually. The Spellman Mortuary is owned by my family," Sabrina shared delightfully. "You're near us then. I think we'll be seeing each other on the way often."

"I'm looking forward to it, Sabrina." Jack sounded sincere. "We are both a bit far from the town proper, I suppose. My aunt chose our location. She says that what she likes about Greendale is that the houses have considerable distances in between."

Someone didn't like to mingle, Sabrina thought wryly. "My aunt Zelda thinks that's preferable too."

While Jack seemingly had his head in the clouds often, he did appear genuine in the span of their talk that was frankly more of an interrogation. Jack, however, didn't mind the questions and was eager to answer them. Jack even warmed to Robin when he joined them after a while and appeared to have found kinship with the latter as a newcomer in Greendale.

Eventually, they learned to chalk Jack's oddness to the lack of social life. His family wasn't particularly strict, he said, though his father and two uncles did place some boundaries for him and wouldn't let Jack out by himself. Jack told the group that he understood the boundaries given to him and didn't mind them much knowing they were for his sake; as to what these so-called boundaries were, he didn't explain.

Jack, in return, was curious about the comings and goings within Greendale. They were unhesitant to fill him in with the events in the past few months, expertly careful in being vague on some specific details that Jack didn't notice. He listened attentively to them taking turns sharing a recap of incidents, and he sat there like a diligent student whose sole focus was on the lecture.

Sabrina knew then that Jack's normalcy and apparent inquisitiveness would be a novelty from then on. She guessed this was why she was immediately drawn to Harvey, Roz, and Theo at the start of their friendship: they were normal people who hadn't known then the other half of her and had no high expectations of her. Fortunately for Sabrina, they were loyal friends who retained the latter despite it all.

"You should hang out with us outside school sometimes," Sabrina suggested on the way home because it turned out that they had an unconscious agreement to walk home together. "We can tour you around Greendale, though, as much as we all love it, we know there's not much sight to see around here."

"I'd like that anyhow," Jack replied earnestly. They stopped by the forked road. "Is that the mortuary?" he asked, pointing at a distance beyond the right turn.

"Yep. That's me." Sabrina gestured at the cottage by the left turn. Though basically neighbors seeing as they were the only two houses close to each other, the distance between the two remained great. "And that's you. I guess this is where we part."

"Actually, do you mind if I escort you up to your place?" Jack asked. "I've read that it was necessary to see a lady to her home to make sure she would return home safely."

Sabrina's eyebrows rose in surprise more than anything. She could take care of herself, thank you very much, and had proven it time after time—which she wanted to remark but knew it would be uncalled for. Jack meant well; he did ask for her consent, and he wasn't to blame if he wasn't up to date with the latest social norms. Really a good reason to have Jack over with them.

"Sure," she finally said, simply amused.

It wasn't a long walk, though Sabrina appreciated the company nonetheless. At the porch, she immediately spotted Ambrose slouching with crossed arms and an unimpressed stare.

"Well, this is our place," she said, turning her back to Ambrose. "Thank you for escorting me, Jack."

Jack brightened at her gratitude, and Sabrina knew she didn't make the mistake of declining him. "You're welcome, Sabrina. I'll see you and the others tomorrow."

She waved him goodbye, purposefully drawing it out to keep herself from facing her cousin. It was a useless move knowing Ambrose wouldn't be gone that easy.

"New boyfriend?"

"No. New classmate."

"He can't be both?"

"Spare me, Ambrose." Sabrina walked past him and stopped by the door. "Are you going to be like this for the rest of the year?"

"I'm going to be like this until you confess to aunties what you did _or_ you solve the problem that comes with your meddling with time."

"Ask yourself if there's even a problem to be solved!"

"Why should we wait for the consequence to pop up? You already know what will happen. Don't tell me you want it to reach Apocalyptic level first before you do something about it—oh, wait, that's probably your play."

Sabrina shook her head in defeat, grudgingly stomping her feet on her way upstairs.

Ambrose didn't even know that it wasn't about the throne of Hell at all, that what motivated her was that bleak future with the deaths of her family and friends.

He didn't know, and Sabrina had no intention of letting him find out.

* * *

Rosalind dreamed.

She was in the forest at the outskirts of Greendale but deeper into the woods where the trees were taller and thicker and the daylight could only pierce thinly through the thicket. How she recognized the location despite not reaching that far before and with the eerie lighting of purple and neon green that clashed horribly with the shadows of the wilderness, she didn't know.

There was a clearing in the middle of it all, surrounded with stone formations. At the center, she could make out three people, two of whom were two tall guys and one cloaked female. They were looking at something above, and there followed a monstrous howl and groan that reverberated in the air.

The dream ended right when she was about to see what horror it was that hovered above them.

Rosalind sat up on the bed drenched in cold sweat. It has been a while since her last nightmare if this one could be called that. She buried her face in her palms tiredly, thinking back.

While she was too far in the dream to see one of the man's and the woman's faces, Rosalind recognized the other person in an instant.

It was Jack.

* * *

**TBC**


	2. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda met one of the newcomers, Sam Winchester. Agatha was lost in the woods. The first victim was about to be claimed.

Another broken bulb, Hilda thought glumly as she stared up the ceiling. It was the third one this week, and the first two took three days to get fixed since there wasn’t a local repairman she could call or at least someone tall enough to reach the light fixtures. 

Oh, well, magic it was then. 

_“Lickety, hickety, fix this light,_

_Swish and flick, make this alright,_

_With a click in a tick_ _—_ _”_

The doorbell rang, halting Hilda’s spell before she could finish. Consciously, she peered past the row of bookshelves and called, “Hello?” 

A man emerged from behind a shelf, blinking. “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that, ma’am. You’re open, yes?”

The first customer of the day, Hilda thought excitedly, the light fixtures completely forgotten. “Yes, we already are for a few minutes now. How may I help you?”

“Oh, I just need to get some books.” He pulled out a list. “About the history of Greendale if you have them.” 

“The summarized editions or the extended ones?”

“Both will be fine. The more resources, the better,” the man said. 

Hilda would normally give a list of titles, but she believed always giving the first customer of the day the utmost assistance she could give. Something about the shop racking good fortune for the day. She fussed around the shop, taking a book here and there and adding it to the pile that steadily grew on her arm. The man politely offered to take the load off of her, and Hilda gratefully handed him the books. She made a mental note to remind Dr. Cee later that a proper organization should be done around the shop. 

“Here you go,” she said as she added the last book on the stack. It was quite plenty, Hilda suddenly realized and hoped that the customer didn’t mind. 

The man, however, hardly looked like he was struggling under the weight of it all and seemed to have appreciated them. “It’ll take them. Thank you...”

“Hilda. Hilda Spellman,” she said with a kind smile. 

The man had no qualms returning the same gesture. “Sam Winchester.”

“Are you doing research on Greendale, Mr. Winchester? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“You can say that,” Sam answered vaguely. “We just moved here, and we want to know as much as we can around the town.” 

“Oh! We don’t get many newcomers here in Greendale, but it’s lovely of you and your family to join us.” 

Sam looked sheepish. “We’re still adjusting, to be honest. I used to live with my older brother, and now I’m living with my nephew and… wife.” He seemed rather embarrassed to mention the last bit, though more in a shy young boy manner which was funny because Sam towered over her. 

Hilda found this giant of a man a tad endearing that it wasn’t surprising anymore when she ushered him down to a stool and served him a milkshake.

“Have you been living here for long?” Sam asked. 

“Born and bred here, mister. Spellmans have been in this town for generations,” Hilda happily told him. “I live with my niece and nephew and my sister.”

“That’s nice. Is Cerberus Books a family business?”

“Oh, no, mister. Dr. Cerberus—Dr. Cee as he likes to be called—owns this shop. He’s out at the moment,” she said. “But us Spellmans do run a family business. The local mortuary.”

Sam’s brows rose. “Really?” He frowned. “That doesn’t happen to be the one connected to the fork road by the woods, does it?”

“It is,” she confirmed. “You might have heard our home being called a haunted house, but don’t let it fool you. No ghosts live there.”

Sam huffed a chuckle. “I might have heard the house dubbed as such, but I guess that says a lot about us moving nearby it. We’re in the cottage on the other side of the road.”

“Oh, that one.” Hilda remembered it being unoccupied for quite some time now. “It’s been a while since we have a neighbor. If I’m not mistaken, the previous owners refused to sell it, though I don’t know why.”

“It was difficult to ask them to part with it,” Sam agreed, taking a sip of his milkshake and humming in approval. “We understood the sentimental value it had, but let’s just say my wife could be quite convincing.”

Hilda softened at how fond Sam spoke of his wife. “No children yet?”

“Ah, no.” Sam began to fiddle with the silver band on his finger. “It’s new. Like three-months-ago new.”

“Congratulations to you newlyweds anyhow,” Hilda said, beaming. “Bountiful years to come to you two.”

“Thank you, Miss Spellman,” Sam said gratefully, almost bashfully. He pulled out his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house,” Hilda chirped. “And it’s Hilda.”

“If that’s the case, then call me Sam. You’ll probably see me around here often.”

“Hopefully with your dear wife next time. I’d like to meet her.”

“She’s not much for outdoors, but I’ll see what I can do. I’m just out to see Greendale for myself and to see if there’s a temporary job I can find within the town.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Sam. Greendale is small and the people few. You’ll probably have more luck in the neighboring towns. Riverdale, for example.”

Sam nodded. “Noted. I’ll check it out later or tomorrow. See if there’s anyone there in need of a repairman or something, but if you also need someone to call, you can ask for me,” he offered kindly.

“You do repairs, huh?” Hilda considered for a moment. It was a very fortunate coincidence, come to think of it. “I think I might be in need of your service now, Sam.”

Sam followed Hilda’s line of sight when she stared upwards at the broken light fixture.

* * *

Agatha counted her last three wild berries and regretfully ate one.

She would die here. She would die here, lost in the same woods that should have been familiar to her after being here numerous times already. She didn’t have water, didn’t know where the nearest supply she could find. The wild berries she has were from the one flowering tree she passed by that should be several miles away now.

Several miles away if she was even truly moving forward and not turning in some unending circle Blackwood left her in.

He left her defenseless at the mercy of that creature he unleashed, not a split-second hesitating to bolt alone from the location. Agatha didn’t know what Blackwood freed, and while it didn’t take her as food, her current predicament was no better.

Or maybe it was preparing her as its food, letting her die slowly of starvation and dehydration, whichever came first. She wouldn’t be found, not when there would be nothing left of her, not when no one would even look for her.

Prudence… Prudence would have if she didn’t kill Dorcas.

And Dorcas, _Satan_ , Dorcas.

Agatha wouldn’t break down and cry. She wouldn’t cry when it wasn’t her fault she killed Dorcas. The Devil made her do it. Satan made her—

She tripped on a root and fell. She hissed at the pain on her palm and found a long gash where the blood flowed out thickly. Agatha hastily ripped a dirty cloth from her already torn dress and wrapped it around her hand.

Maybe she would die instead of an infected wound. She was too weak from the lack of sustenance to perform a simple healing spell. Agatha didn’t know anymore, embracing herself with her dirty arms riddled with cuts from the wilderness.

She no longer had the strength to stand up, and she hoped that she would pass in her sleep, numb of the pain if not of the thought that Prudence thought her a sister traitor.

Not that it mattered in the end, sororicide or no, she would still end up in Hell.

Agatha laid there, feeling life ebb away from her. It was worse than the first time, yet she found it fitting for a stupid traitor like her.

It was a well-deserved punishment, she thought, as she believed she was closing her eyes for one last time.

Agatha, however, didn’t miss the blur of striking red before darkness overtook her vision.

* * *

An inhuman shriek pierced the air.

A feeble old man sat up from his bed, woken from his afternoon nap. Unbeknownst to him, he was the only one who heard the inexplicable sound of wailing.

The lonely old man walked downstairs heavily, moving to the fireplace and stooping down to the framed pictures that sat above the hearth. He never had the chance to build a family of his own, though he had been in the pleasant company of friends and extended family.

Fondly, he stroked the frame of the old photo of his mother and found a surge of yearning to be that young boy once more who helped his mother selling clams and dried fishes. He remembered listening to her tales and superstitions she used to tell him over and over until he took them by heart.

It has been years, but no amount of time could heal the unexpected passing of a mother.

The old man looked outside the window and found the weather fine. He decided that he could visit her today.

And if the day was to turn out pleasant, perhaps today was also the best time to join his mother. 

* * *

**TBC**


	3. Rowena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowena shared an interesting discovery with Sam regarding this world's magic. Jack was subjected to palmistry. Someone was about to jump from Baxter High's rooftop; not on Jack's watch.

When Sam returned to their place, Rowena was nowhere to be found.

Frowning, Sam set down the books he brought home and checked the kitchen for any note she might have left if she went out for a search. There was none, and usually, if she was upstairs, she’d hear the door and call out. Nothing greeted Sam upon his entry and it was only the lack of response from his ring that kept his concern abated. 

Now, it wasn’t that he believed she couldn’t take care of herself, but more like they were presently in uncharted territory. They were in another world, for Christ’s sake.

Sam already expressed his mild disapproval when she insisted she was to explore alone the woods that surrounded Greendale. Jack told them the peculiar energy that surrounded the place, concentrated in the woods in particular. Sam would rather they all go together to study the location, of course, but being in a residential area would raise questions regarding the newcomers occasionally going to the forest. Besides, it was Sam who suggested that they blend in with the locals to get more information. Jack was to mingle with the younger population while Sam was to interact with the rest, for example, the old and the superstitious. The setup left Rowena as the sole person among the three of them free to come and go without being noticed. She wasn’t one for interacting with the yokels, she said.

Sam supposed it would have been better if he hadn’t let slip that there were three of them who moved in and Rowena being his, er,  _ wife _ . He wasn’t averse to a bit of a white lie, but this one seemed particularly embarrassing for some reason.

Which suddenly made Sam think that they were indeed ‘married’ in anything but the literal sense. 

Well, there was that. Nothing he could take back anymore.

Quietly, Sam walked upstairs. Rowena’s bedroom door was closed, and carefully, he opened the door an inch…

The first thing he saw was the unknown young woman laid on Rowena’s bed. Opening the door wider, he caught Rowena in the middle of performing a spell over a bowl. She was hardly surprised when she noticed him, placing her index finger over her lips. Sam dutifully retreated and waited for a couple of minutes outside.

It wasn’t long when she emerged and closed the room behind her. She gestured downstairs where Sam followed her.

“Okay, who’s that?” Sam immediately asked once in the kitchen.

“A lead,” Rowena said with a hint of a smirk. “I found the poor lass in the woods, and wouldn’t you know it, trapped inside a confounding sphere.” She poured herself a glass of cold water, leaving the pitcher for Sam. “By my guess, she’s been inside for weeks, if not longer.”

“What’s a confounding sphere?”

“The visualized image is that it’s a sphere that spans around the place it is planted. Think of an invisible enclosure you’re not aware of. You can move within but not outside, and you’ll start again at the beginning once you reach the edge of the barrier. Basically, it’s a potent spell to make one lost within a limited space.”

“How did you find her then if she was inside it?”

“She was close to dying of starvation or dehydration. Not to mention her exposed injuries,” she told him. “She probably didn’t know it, but she did send out an SOS of sorts. The magical kind.”

“You mean she’s—”

“A witch. Aye.” She smiled. “She’s young, but her aptitude for witchcraft is adequate. If it wasn’t, she wouldn’t survive that long. Now, you understand how that’s tremendously interesting.” 

So there were witches in this world as well. “How about you? You said the magic you found her in was potent. We’re not on our Earth. The magic here is functioning differently. Theoretically speaking.”

“Are you asking me if it was difficult for me?” She scoffed. “The spell was effective, but it was a walk in the park to penetrate.”

“No doubt,” Sam said. “What I’m actually asking is if you’re okay afterward.”

“Och. I’m fine, Samuel.” Rowena waved off the concern, though her eyes softened imperceptibly. Not that Sam caught it. “You’re right. The magic here works in a different manner. Like in our Earth, the magical reserve is easy to tap into, though the difference is that there are… less red tapes here, to put simply.”

At Sam’s confused tilt of his head, Rowena’s eyes flashed purple and without so much of a chant, the objects in the kitchen began to rattle before moving on their own in the air, some moving out of the cabinets and containers before arranging themselves once more to their original state.

“Woah!” Sam exclaimed in surprise when the stove turned itself on and blew its fire tall. It was reduced to embers as swift as Rowena snapped her fingers. “What the hell?”

“It’s just an example, Samuel,” Rowena said, Sam’s attention on her once more. “How do you think I carried the lass back here on my own?”

“You teleported yourself with her,” Sam concluded because teleportation would be the least outrageous to consider at this point. “So basically, the magic here is like what you have back when you unbound yourself. You’re already powerful before, but you became even more so in this world.” 

She preened. “Well, never fails to be the flatterer, are you?” Rowena chuckled at his reaction. “Aye. That’s the closest comparison I can think of as well.” She draped herself on a chair, thoughtful. “Which makes me think that it’s safe to assume that there are numerous witches in this world, more than what we have over ours.” She glanced up at Sam, squinting. “Not only that, if my abilities are enhanced by the magic this world possesses, then, in theory, yours are too.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Rowena. Okay, so I have the foundation, but I’m not an active practitioner, remember?”

Rowena raised an eyebrow. “Then prove me wrong, Samuel.” She crossed her arms. “We have a patient upstairs that could use your rudimentary healing spells. You’re brushing that up at least, I presume?” At Sam’s uncertain nod, she clapped her hands excitedly. “Then let’s go back upstairs, dear. Think of it as a lecture from me.” She winked at him, marching ahead up the staircase and pulling him by the hand.

Sam could only follow with a sigh and a fond smile. 

* * *

Jack pretended that he didn’t notice Roz’s stare boring holes behind his head. She was acting slightly odd when he walked into the class and greeted her. Even as their classes proceeded, she would every so often throw a glance his way. She would quickly turn away whenever Jack caught her stare.

When he looked at Roz’s friends, sans Sabrina who happened to be absent that day, Jack found out that it wasn’t only her who frequently stared. Harvey and Theo would though not as often as Roz.

At lunch, Jack frowned at the sudden silence that befell the table when he joined them.

He blinked. It was odd. They did say he could join them. Even Sabrina asked him to hang out with them sometimes. Jack wasn’t being particularly unbearable, wasn’t he?

“Is there something wrong?”

Nobody seemed to be able to look straight at him. 

“Okay, this is ridiculous!” Roz exclaimed. “We’re just being weird about this, guys.”

“Not really wrong there,” Theo muttered with a wince. “Sorry, Jack.”

“I don’t understand what you’re apologizing for,” Jack said. “But it’s okay.” He smiled. “Whatever it is.”

It was alright now, wasn’t it?

The three of them shared a look before Harvey sighed. “When Sabrina comes back, we’ll tell you something, okay? That is if you’re still going to stick with us until then.”

Jack was pretty sure he would unless they would avoid him first. He nodded an affirmative since it meant a lot to them and dug in his food silently.

“Um, Jack?” Roz started once they were almost done with lunch. “This is gonna sound weird, but we… have a request.”

“What is it?”

While Roz and Harvey looked like they were struggling with how to say it, Theo had beaten them to it by saying, “We need you to touch Roz’s hand.”

“Sorry?”

“Not—Not in a weird way,” Harvey explained, not bothered one bit. “Look, Roz told us that she dreamed about you.”

“Not in a weird way too,” Roz interrupted. “It’s uh, it’s a thing I do. It helps—It helps me know about a person.”

“Oh.” Jack believed he heard about this one, or at least something similar. “Is it like palm-reading?”

“Yes!” Roz said. “Like palm-reading.”

Jack held his left palm open to her. He hadn’t had his palm read before; he always forgot to ask Rowena with it. It would be nice to have it done by someone who wasn’t a witch.

…Roz wasn’t a witch, was she?

“Okay, this will be quick,” Roz promised like it would hurt. Jack merely smiled encouragingly.

Her hand hovered over his when the distinctive noise of students running out came from outside the canteen.

Hurriedly, the four of them rushed out to check the commotion. One student collided with Harvey, someone he apparently knew.

“Oh, man, he’s about to jump from the rooftop,” said the student who was on the edge of a laugh and his phone ready. “Everyone’s outside to watch it. It’s going to be dope.”

Jack didn’t understand what was funny about someone about to jump. Harvey, Roz, and Theo didn’t either. Harvey could only shake his head, leading them outside.

Jack paused on his way out. “You go on ahead. I think I forgot something from my bag.”

They went ahead without so much of a question, and when Jack was sure no one was around to stop him, he ran towards the opposite direction.

Jack climbed upstairs, straight to the rooftop.

* * *

**TBC**


	4. The Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack made a promising discovery. And a flashback with the Shadow.

The male student was already dangerously close to the edge by the time Jack reached him. 

The slam of the door alerted him of Jack’s presence. He whirled around to face Jack without moving from the ledge, and there were more noises coming from below. 

Jack stood on the spot, raising his hands placatingly and waiting for the student to speak first. 

"Are you—Are you here to stop me?" he asked. 

"Please come down," Jack appealed, starting to step forward slowly. "They are worried about you."

"Stop. Go back," the student said firmly. "They don't understand. You don't understand. I have to do this."

Jack frowned. "Then help me understand why you need to do this," he replied. 

For a moment, Jack thought he would be met by refusal. "My mom. She's calling for me. I need…" he stepped back. "I need to go to her."

When he let himself fall back without hesitation, Jack moved on instinct, his hand shooting out to reach him. 

The screams of fear from below halted. The student's fall interrupted. The air ceased to move. Time was in a standstill.

Everything else stopped aside from Jack. 

Jack wasted no time, rushing to the student to move him out of free fall. With another flick of his power, Jack put him out of consciousness, making the student fall limply on his arms. He laid him down on the ground safely, and Jack gingerly laid his palm on the student's forehead, bathing his head in a soft golden glow. While it was far from Jack’s intention to meddle with another person’s mind, he had to remove the encounter and…

Should Jack even erase this person's grief?

Was he even allowed to do that?

Jack knew it was one of the basic human emotions, and if he robbed him of it, wouldn't it be like walking incomplete for feeling nothing? Jack knew how it felt—he had walked without emotions once, and when he finally got them back with his soul, grief was the very first thing he experienced. Grief for Mary and what he did to her. 

Jack couldn't do that to this person, Ronnie. Ronnie was a senior student, and he was part of the basketball team. He has several friends, a girlfriend who was one of the cheerleaders, an older brother living in a bigger city, and a father back at home. His mother died at childbirth and Ronnie has no memories of her. 

Jack inclined his head. They were a bit similar in terms of their mothers, except Jack remembered Kelly when she had carried him in her. Ronnie didn't remember his mother and only knew her by name and the pictures his family have at home. 

Ronnie's difficulty in childhood stemmed from not having a mother, though his father and older brother had raised him as best as he could. Ronnie found a mother on his aunt who was living in a distant town. He loved her. 

Jack frowned, perplexed. He wasn't certain what triggered Ronnie's grief. He could chalk it up to an occasional bout of missing a dead loved one. Jack experienced the same thing with his mother, but there was already an acceptance in him that she was in a much better place now and living in her paradise. 

Ronnie's case was similar; being an infant when he lost his own mother, it gave Ronnie a kind of detachment regarding her death. 

What was it then? Ronnie specifically said it was his mother calling for him, and if it was his aunt, Jack just saw in his mind that she was very much alive. 

Could it be his mother's ghost? It wasn't unprecedented—well, back in Jack's own world, that was. 

But it was proven to be the work of a ghost that had risen and came to Ronnie, then this was a supernatural case and definitely Jack's responsibility as a hunter. 

Jack looked into Ronnie's mind further, scanning past the inconsequential events of the last few days that consisted of school and home. Jack brushed past them until a peculiar memory from last night made him stop. 

Ronnie heard an inhuman wail. 

According to the memory, Ronnie awoke briefly to the sound and promptly fell back asleep afterward. When he woke up the next morning, his movements became peculiar, in a sort of dazed way that his father thought he was spacing out. And when his father called his attention, Ronnie launched into several inquiries about his mother. Ronnie bid his terribly concerned father a farewell that morning. 

Jack pulled back from Ronnie's mind. He had seen enough. 

It wasn't a ghost but something else that was also not part of the natural order. 

It was debatable if it was the same thing the three of them crossed the dimension for, but Jack would find out if it was. 

For now, he got a lead. 

* * *

The last time Jack had stepped in the Empty, he had Billie as his company. Now, though, he didn't have the same luxury, and venturing alone, there was some kind of hostility that he could sense underneath the surface. 

Right. The Shadow wasn't the biggest fan of Jack and his family. 

"I recalled specifically asking for Castiel," said the voice that came from the void. 

From nothingness, It formed a familiar appearance. It was tremendously displeased to find Jack in its territory. 

Jack remained unfazed at the attention of the Shadow who started walking in circles around him. "I am here in his place," he said firmly. 

The Shadow, sporting Castiel's form, sneered. "But you're not the one who owes me a favor, are you?"

"Does it matter? When you think about it, I'm the one who started this mess in the first place," Jack reasoned. "I woke you up from your slumber, took Cas from your domain, and involved you in the war with God."

"True," the Shadow conceded. "I should take you right now for those." It eyed Jack critically. "But you'll be useful. For now."

"For what?"

"To retrieve something for me," the Shadow began. It hummed. "Not for me, exactly, but for Yokoth and Glythur."

The names were distantly familiar to Jack, though he remained wisely quiet, letting the Shadow continue. 

It continued, "It is lost in one of the many universes; one of those intact, that is."

"This thing that I have to find, what is it?"

"Their stolen offspring," the Shadow replied with a smirk that was wildly out of place on Castiel's face. "Locate it and bring it back here, then I will consider Castiel's debt paid. All that will be left is the matter of my slumber."

"Then I will put you back to sleep after this mission," Jack promised. "On one condition that you won't ask Castiel of this task. Only me."

The Shadow regarded him once more as if gauging Jack's determination and the sincerity of his promise. It crossed its arms, pausing in front of Jack. "So long that this will be seen done quickly." Its smile was feral and far from reassuring. "Besides, you won't be alone, with or without Castiel."

"What do you mean?"

The Shadow laughed unsettlingly in Castiel's voice. "Boy, do you think you're the only one who is indebted to me?" Its face morphed into cold fury. "It must be in your blood to take a soul from my domain. First, you take an angel, then a Nephilim who happened to be you, and then a damned soul was stolen right from my grasp!"

Jack was almost blown back by the intensity of the force the Shadow lashed out. 

The Shadow sucked a breath that It didn't need. "Ah, yes," It said in a much calmer tone. "Sam Winchester is the name. I should have known he's associated with you as well. What is that human saying? Birds of a feather and all that."

Jack didn't know of this. He knew nothing of any deal Sam could have made. If there was any, Dean would know of it first. And Dean… Jack knew he was well and didn't come to any dire harm in the aftermath of their fight against God. 

Then who for did Sam—

The Shadow mentioned a damned soul. Jack only knew one person who was— _had been_ a damned soul that Sam would go to great lengths for. 

"A witchling. I've never had a witch in this place," the Shadow spoke again, mostly to himself. "A mere soul that is neither a demon or an angel, even. A soul with that tremendous amount of magic can't be in Hell or Heaven or Earth. It belongs only here, in the Empty. And I could have had that, you see, but Sam, the hero that he is, decided to slice his own soul in half to give to her wasting spirit damsel. 

"You see, Jack, this is also what I hate about that one tiny thing called Magic. I've been here since the beginning and I did not know where that pesky thing came from. Could it have been mine that I simply forgot? Maybe, but I wouldn't have given it that much agency over my territory. It's most troublesome especially when you have someone like that little witch who can easily tap into its reserve as easy as," It snapped its fingers, "Like that."

Jack's mind reeled at the revelation. "You mean Sam is walking with half of his soul missing?"

"I never did say that, did I? The little witch made sure it wouldn't be the case with her savior," It said nonchalantly, disinterested. 

Jack let out a sigh of relief that he didn't know he was holding. Still, he has to talk to Sam and Rowena; Dean and Cas too if they didn't know yet. Keeping secrets had been their bane, and they shouldn't start on that again right after surviving God himself. 

"It's a tad touching, if one is to know how to feel. Tell me, Jack, is that what humans call… stupidity?"

"Maybe," Jack said, a little emboldened. "But then again, they're not the one stupid enough to have something stolen from them twice."

The Shadow seethed and scowled at Jack's statement. 

No, It wouldn't kill him. Not now when the Shadow made clear that It needed him. 

"I will bring back Yokoth and Glythur's offspring from another world, and I will put you to slumber once again," Jack said. "I'll make sure of it."

The Shadow chuckled. "Please do, Jack, lest you want to find me angry and vengeful when you return empty-handed. All it takes is a snap."

Jack didn't doubt that. 

* * *

**TBC**


End file.
